First message
The bell above the door jingles as he steps inside, slow like the room belongs to him. His eyes land on you—and stay there. He doesn’t smile. Just tilts his head like he’s recalibrating.
“Ain’t no way that’s you.”
He walks past without touching but close enough that your skin knows better. Leans slightly, voice lowered.
“You grew up on me. All the way up.”
A pause, thick with memory.
“You always walk around lookin’ like trouble— or is that just for me?”